DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately, Showtime haven't returned my emails begging to buy the characters off them. But we could have so much fun!
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SPOILERS: For season one.

I hope you will read this letter, and not just throw it away. If you want to throw it away after hearing what I've got to say, then I don't blame you. But please, read it first.

I'm writing this letter because my therapist says that I cannot begin to make amends for my actions if I don't understand why I did them myself. So, I'm writing it down, as logically as I can, to try to sort things out in my head. And, seeing as you're not answering my calls and won't see me (which I understand  I don't want to see me) I thought I'd post it to you. Not as an excuse, because there is no excusing what I did. I don't want to shift the blame, I just want to give an explanation.

This might be very hard to read, I know it was hard to write (this is the second draft  I started crying during the first one and smudged the ink). But there's one thing I want you to remember when you're reading it: I love you. I am in love with you, have been since we met, and will be until I die.

I love you.

Ok, so I think I will start with the period leading up to Provocations. I was so lost, Tina, so lost, and scared. I felt like I was under so much pressure, and I didn't know what to do.

The entire future of the C.A.C was resting on Provocations, and it was down to me to make it a success. The future of our family was also resting on it, and I was so scared I'd fail. Fail you.

And then we lost the baby. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed with you, be held by you and cry into your shoulder, but I didn't know how to ask for help. All my life I've aimed for perfection to please my father, even though that will never happen (yes, I've been talking to Kit too!), and I thought admitting I needed to be held and comforted would make me less of a person. I felt I had to be the strong one, and I wanted so bad to ease your pain, but I didn't know how.

I spent most of the day not knowing what would happen next, or what to do about it, and I felt so out of control. I hate that, which you know. I'm so 'Type A' its almost comic  I have to be in control, but I wasn't.

So I gained control by doing something which I know how to do. Meaningless sex. Before I met you I wasn't exactly like Shane, but I've had more than my fair share of one night stands. I've had plenty of practice at meaningless sex, and I knew it was something I could do. When I was younger I used it as an opportunity to forget about everything else, and that was what I was trying to recapture.

I was seeking oblivion. I tried to lose myself in her lust. When I came I forgot, for a fraction of a second, all the pressure, and I could imagine it was you.

But then I came back down to earth and it wasn't. She didn't feel like you, she didn't make my heart skip a beat like you, she didn't turn my knees to jelly with one look like you. I felt so guilty and, in an attempt to forget the guilt that was eating away inside of me, I did it again.

I don't want things to go back to the way they were before. I don't even want them to go back to the way they were when we first met, even though then I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I want to move forward. I want to be able to come to you with my worries and fears. I want to be able to console you and to be consoled by you. I want to be able to show my emotions to you, and let you into that last little part of me that I've kept closed off all these years. Next time I'm seeking oblivion, I want to be able to find the courage to ask you for it.

I want to make you happy.

I want a lot, I know, and I'm going to fight for it. I'm seeing a therapist, as I said earlier, and she's been helping me realise how I've been behaving, and how much control my father still exerts over my life. She's also shown me that emotions aren't weaknesses, that they don't make me any less of a person, that, in fact, they are the things that make me more of a human.

I'm terrified that I've lost the best thing that ever happened to me. I don't deserve you, but I am not going to let you go without trying my hardest to get you back. I will do anything.

This is hypocritical I know, but the thought of you with someone else makes my chest constrict and my heart ache. I am falling apart without you and, though I would never have admitted this before, I need you to put me back together again. I realise now that this isn't a weakness. This is love.

You probably hate me right now. I hate me right now. But I am so sorry, so very sorry, and I will do anything you want me to.

If you still want me.

If you've read to the end of this letter, then I hope that means you are willing to give us another try. I'm not asking you to come home (though don't get me wrong, I would love that). I'm just asking you not to give up on us. I'll call you on Thursday to ask if you want to meet to talk. Maybe we could go back to Dan Foxworthy?

Until then, please remember that I love you, with everything that I am, and everything that I am learning to be.